


The Call

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: CSI: Trinity [7]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Early Work, Early in Canon, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family issue dictates that Greg returns home and one night he receives a call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A knock on the door wrestled Greg away from the edge of a restless dream.

"Son?"

Greg squinted against the bright light intruding into the shadows of his old bedroom. "Yeah?"

"Telephone. It’s Gil."

Struggling to escape the tangle of sheets trapping his lower torso, Greg reached for the cordless, knocking it off its base. With a grunt, he scooted forward and caught the phone, bringing it to his ear.

"Gil?" Silence met his inquiry. A lopsided grin broke free once he figured he'd forgotten to click the phone on.

"Gil?"

"I know it’s late but Warrick insisted I call you before going to bed."

Greg put aside the fact that his lover needed to be told to call. Instead, he hummed happily, allowing Gil’s voice to blanket him with a comforting warmth. "I miss you, Gil."

"Me, too. Your substitute, Jackson, can’t seem to get anything done on time."

Greg listened to the sounds his lover was making. Gil was obviously in bed, no doubt shifting his pile of pillows until they were positioned just right. "Is Warrick there? I want to give him a goodnight kiss."

"He’s not here at the moment. Volunteered to cover the weekend so Nick could go to some concert."

Greg tugged the quilt off the floor and spread it across the bed. "Will you tell him I miss his morning hugs."

"I will tell him. Now, how’s your mother?"

Fighting the tug of Mr. Sandman, he snuggled further under the covers. "She’s nervous about tomorrow. This is her first surgery and with the inconclusive results of her biopsy hanging over her head, she’s really worried about what the doc will find." Greg rubbed a hand over his face. "Actually, we’re _all_ pretty worried."

"The feelings the three of you are experiencing are quite understandable."

Greg looked up and caught sight of the small, framed photo of his mother on his nightstand. "Uh… Gil? Do you think?" He shook his head and looked away from the face that gazed lovingly at him. "Never mind."

"Spit it out, Greg. Do you need me to come up there? I can call and get the next flight out."

Greg chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes focusing on the trio of thin gold bands that circled his left wrist. "Would you do that, Gil? Would you do that for me?"

The older man’s familiar sigh of frustration chastised his doubts. "Look, Greg , your family is my family now. I’ll come if you want me to, but you need to tell me. I won’t make the decision for you."

Greg sat up, the sheets and quilt pooling below his slim waist. Moonlight from the room’s single window chased across the small tattoo hidden in the hollow of his left hip. He traced a finger over the intertwined names of his lovers.

"Greg?" His lover demanded a prompt answer.

Greg glanced once again at the framed photograph of his mother. His words caught on a barely muted sob. "Please… please come, Gil."

"I’m on my way. I’ll be there in time for you to cook me breakfast."

Greg released the breath he was holding. "Thanks, Gil. It’s just so hard right now and if they find…." He couldn’t go on.

"We’ll deal with it, Greg. That’s all we can do."

Greg tightened his grip on the phone. "Hurry, Gil. I need you."

There were new sounds now, those of Gil slamming drawers open and closed could clearly be heard over the phone. "I’m coming, Greg. Close your eyes and lay down. I’ll tell you a story while I get ready."

The tone of Gil's voice gentled, lowered in such a way Greg felt as if he was melting into the mattress. "One hot summer day, a father and son were out in the desert, playing fetch with their dog."

Greg yawned and snuggled once more under the covers. He listened to his lover’s mesmerizing voice for several minutes and when Gil paused to take a breath, he rushed in and whispered, "I love you, Gil."

"I love you too, Greg. Now… the bone was examined closely and pronounced human. Once this fact was established, volunteers were called to…."

Greg closed his eyes and fell asleep, the comforting spell of his lover’s words protecting him from reality’s nightmares.

The end


	2. The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg's thoughts on Gil's offer to be with him during his time of need.

He’s coming here. 

Now, at this very moment.

Gil is coming. Coming to be with me.

Me. 

Not Warrick. Not Nick. Not Sara. Not Catherine.

Me. 

I stare out my bedroom window at the moon and the vista of stars surrounding it and I still cannot believe that Gil is flying through the exact same heaven on his way to me. He’s left his home, taken time off from work, bid good-bye to the warmth of his bed just so that he can be by my side during my time of need. 

Me.

The young one, the lover he doesn’t quite understand. 

I realize I’m a tad bit weird—a little too enthusiastic, too quirky for most people. I’m not even sure if Gil would have given me a second look if I hadn’t already been involved in a relationship with Warrick when the two of them started seeing each other. In fact, I sometimes thought Gil tolerated me being a part of our threesome simply because of Warrick. He loved Warrick, Warrick loved me and, therefore, it was only logical that I be welcomed into their bed. 

But now—now I’m thinking maybe I was wrong. Maybe Gil does love me for me. 

In the three years we’ve been together, I can count on one hand how many times he’s missed work. And I know for a fact, he’s hasn’t left the state of Nevada since Warrick and I moved in with him six months ago, not even for a convention. So that has to mean something, right? For Gil to come all this way, all the way to California just so he can offer his support—hold my hand while we wait to find out if my mother has breast cancer. And so what if I kinda hinted that I needed him? He’s still coming. My family is his family—that’s what he said. I wonder if he knows how much it meant for me to hear him say those words. 

Even though Gil’s not one to share his feelings or speak the words most lovers find easy to say to one another, he has on several occasions said, ‘I love you.’ He may say it after the fact, after I’ve said it to him but he does let me know, in his own way, that he cares for me. 

And, it’s certainly no secret that I care for him. Love him like I’ve loved nobody else. Not even Warrick. I’ve never told anyone that but, as much as I cherish Warrick’s love and friendship, Gil’s the one for me. He calms this turmoil I feel inside, keeps me centered. For some reason, I don’t feel the need to show off for Gil, pretend I’m something I’m not—he tolerates the real me, even when I’m at my zaniest. And I really appreciate the fact that it’s cool with him if I’m a little off the graph of normality. 

What I appreciate even more is the way Gil makes love to me. Even if I’m wrong about how he feels, he can still melt the flesh right off my bones every time he slides his dick deep inside my body and rides my ass until all I can see, smell and taste is him. It’s almost like an addiction for me. I crave his touch, no matter how intimate or how innocent. It can be as simple as him touching my hand, like he sometimes does at work when he’s distracted by a case and forgets he’s not supposed to display any outward sign that would indicate we’re together. Or it can be so damn hot, like him standing behind me in the shower, stroking me, making me cum while Warrick watches

And on those nights when it’s just the two of us and Gil gives me the look—the one where he tilts his head to the side, lifts that one eyebrow and the barest of smiles curves his mouth—all I can think about is how fast I can strip my clothes off and get into his arms. I don’t care if I never top Gil, just being underneath him, with his arms and legs wrapped me, his lips tasting every inch of my skin, his dick knocking on my back door—well, that’s more than enough for me. 

In fact, that’s why I’m sitting here in the dark, staring out my window. I’m waiting, waiting for him. 

For Gil Grissom. For the man I love. 

The man who’s gonna to give me the courage to face tomorrow.

Hurry, Gil. I need you.

 

+++++++

 

A frustrated sigh greeted the announcement of yet another delay in landing due to bad weather. The sigh was repeated, this time louder, the sound accompanied by the incessant noise of tapping, the impatient tapping of a photo against the armrest.

“Good looking boy, you got there. Is he your son?”

Grissom turned and stared at the heavy-set business man sitting beside him, noticing him for the first time since the plane’s take off from Vegas. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Is that your son? I bet he drives the girls crazy.”

Grissom shifted his gaze to the photo he held in his hand and a tender look shadowed his eyes. “No. He’s not my son.” The graying CSI brushed his thumb over the image of Greg’s smiling face. “And yes, he does drive those around him crazy. Crazy in ways you just wouldn’t understand.”

“A real heartbreaker, I take it?”

Tucking the photo inside his shirt pocket, Gil looked out the window and down at the dark clouds blocking his view of the ground. “You have no idea.”

 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> And yeah . . .[You can find me on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)


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